


A Different Kind of Game

by stillskies



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillskies/pseuds/stillskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shindou notices Yashiro looking and decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aoigensou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou/gifts).



> Written as a fandom-at-large gift for [Fifthmus](http://fifthmus.dreamwidth.org).

It starts out innocently enough: they are sitting in Hikaru's living room, playing the brand new fighting game that he had picked up earlier that week on a whim. Yashiro had mentioned something about wanting to play it, and Hikaru had shrugged. "I just got it; haven't played it yet, though. You can come over Friday and we can play it, if you want." Yashiro had lit up and said he'd bring the snacks (which, to Yashiro, always seems to be beer and cookies. Hikaru has no idea how the two are even related, but there you have it.)

So, Hikaru is drinking beer and having his ass handed to him on the screen. It's kind of fun – except the losing thing; Hikaru _hates_ losing – and he's about to suggest calling it a night and playing a _real_ game when he notices Yashiro looking. Not entirely unusual, of course; Hikaru _had_ just opened his mouth, but Yashiro's cheeks are a little flushed, and he averts his gaze as soon as he notices Hikaru looking back.

He leans back, takes another swig of his beer, and thinks. Hikaru is pretty sure he knows what that look means, although it is only a little surprising to see it coming from Yashiro. When he thinks about it, though, he supposes it's not that unusual. He's seen Yashiro looking at both men and women, so he sort of figured that Yashiro swung that way, although he hadn't realized that _he_ had somehow managed to get Yashiro's attention. It's not like he was looking for it or anything, which definitely isn't to say it's unwelcome; Yashiro is a good looking guy, and Hikaru is only human. It's been a while since someone has looked at him like that – a _very_ long time, actually. 

Yashiro is looking at him again, and Hikaru looks back. A little more color stains Yashiro's cheeks, but he doesn't turn away. Instead, he shifts his body so that their legs are touching, and Hikaru slides his calf against Yashiro's. Yashiro blinks, as though surprised, and Hikaru smiles at him. Apparently, that's all the invitation he needs, because Yashiro is moving, straddling Hikaru's legs, and kissing him, leaving the game forgotten on the screen.

The kiss is slow, cautious, almost as though Yashiro isn't sure of his welcome, but Hikaru puts his beer on the floor next to him and guides Yashiro to the floor. Yashiro is taller and heavier than Hikaru, and the way his body presses into Hikaru's is a little bit uncomfortable. He wraps his arms around Yashiro's back and lets one slip under the hem of Yashiro's shirt. The skin is smooth and hot, and Yashiro makes a small noise that Hikaru swallows. 

His intention is to keep things nice and slow, let each of them take their time figuring things out. (Really, Hikaru wants to flip them over and pin Yashiro to the ground; patience outside of Go isn't a virtue that he can honestly say he associates with, but Yashiro still looks kind of skittish, and Hikaru really kind of likes the tentative, teasing touches Yashiro places on his shirt.) Yashiro pulls away for a moment, and Hikaru's breath catches a bit in his throat. Yashiro's eyes are dark, his lips are a bit swollen, and the look Yashiro is giving him is contributing to the uncomfortable shrinking of his jeans. 

But it's an opportunity, so Hikaru takes it. Quickly, he tugs the hem of Yashiro's shirt up; Yashiro instinctively throws his arms up, and the shirt comes off easily. Hikaru flings the shirt away (which probably means Yashiro will never see it again, because if Hikaru doesn't see where something he tosses lands, the apartment eats it. One day, he's sure he'll find that damn tsumego book that Akira lent him.) and takes a moment to visually inspect Yashiro's chest.

He's not expecting a six-pack and chiseled pecks; they're Go players, for crying out loud. The most strenuous thing Hikaru does in a day is sit in seiza for hours. And Yashiro's chest isn't chiseled and glistening, but there _is_ some definition, suggesting that maybe Yashiro does other things outside of Go. Which is kind of surprising, really, because Yashiro seems as obsessed and focused as Hikaru and Akira. 

Yashiro ducks down and pushes Hikaru's shirt up into his armpits, and Hikaru feels a sudden flicker of panic – he's not _fat_ , but there is definitely a slight layer of pudge that he keeps meaning to do something about. (He swears he hears Akira shaking his head, counting off how many bowls of ramen Hikaru has had in the past five days, which may or may not be a contributing factor.) Yashiro doesn't notice or doesn't care, and Hikaru inhales sharply when Yashiro's tongues dips inside his naval. He's propped up on his forearms, looking down at Yashiro, who seems to have found some inner reserve of cocky, because he's meeting Hikaru's eyes at the same time his tongue molests the skin under Hikaru's ribs.

Carefully, he balances his weight on his right arm and reaches out with his left to run his nails up the length of Yashiro's back. Yashiro sighs, his breath coming out as a puff against Hikaru's nipple before Yashiro catches the nub between his teeth and gently tugs it before swirling his tongue around it. Hikaru groans and buries his hand in Yashiro's hair before leading him back to Hikaru's lips.

This kiss is not tentative or exploratory or anything at all like their last one. Their tongues are skating past each other, sometimes pausing to fight before surging past and into each other's mouths. Hikaru has one hand in Yashiro's hair, pulling (which, if the noises and grinding coming from Yashiro are any indication, he _likes_ , and that just makes Hikaru harder) every so often, and the other fumbling with the fly of Yashiro's jeans. Yashiro, the coordinated bastard, pops the button on Hikaru's pants on the first try and is using his free hand rub against Hikaru's dick.

Hikaru is thrusting against Yashiro's hand, trying to gather enough wits about him to undo Yashiro's fucking button, when Yashiro pulls away. Hikaru is about to snarl when Yashiro's lips begin exploring his neck and Hikaru's hand comes into contact with coarse hair and hot skin. Yashiro's hand is back where it belongs, picking up where it left off. His teeth scrape the skin behind Hikaru's ear for a second before Yashiro's tongue begins tracing the shell of his ear.

"Fuck," Yashiro breathes in his ear, and Hikaru smiles, wrapping his hand more firmly around Yashiro's cock and pulling. Yashiro pulls his hand away for a second and shoves it under Hikaru's hands, pressing up. Hikaru takes the hint and lifts his hips, never breaking his rhythm. Yashiro groans and awkwardly shoves Hikaru's pants and boxers down around his thighs, and then Yashiro's hand is curling around Hikaru's dick, and Hikaru moans.

For a few glorious minutes, Hikaru loses himself to Yashiro's hand, which is doing amazing things that Hikaru can't keep up with. A part of him is still aware that he has Yashiro's dick in his hand, and tries to match Yashiro's pace, but just as Hikaru feels like he's going to come, Yashiro pulls away.

"What the fuck?" Hikaru demands, sitting up. Yashiro, who has somehow managed to kick off his pants and boxers sometime during the past few minutes, is watching him. Hikaru motions impatiently towards his erection before pulling himself up to grab for Yashiro's, but Yashiro bats his hand away and licks his lips. He looks at Hikaru's dick again, and Hikaru smirks. Quickly, he shoves his jeans and underwear off of his hips and tosses the in the general direction of the couch, then he lies back down and curls his fingers around his erection, all the while keeping eye contact.

Yashiro lowers his gaze, turning his attention to Hikaru's hand. He's never had anyone _watch_ him before, but he's starting to think that he might like it. Slowly, he drags his fist up and studies Yashiro's face. Yashiro's lips are parted and Hikaru thinks he can see the tip of his tongue, resting between his teeth, and the heat of his gaze burns through Hikaru's skin. He has to force his hand to go slow, slow, so slow that he can feel the anticipation and frustration emanating off of Yashiro like waves. It's torture, sweet torture, and he bites his lip to keep from moaning.

Gradually, he picks up the speed, lifting his hips from the ground and thrusting into his hand. It's difficult to keep eye contact like this, so he closes his eyes and concentrates on hearing the breathy little sounds escaping Yashiro's lips as he watches. He's not surprised when warm hands start to stroke the insides on his thighs, or when Yashiro's body slides between his legs and another hand wraps around his cock. Hikaru lets go of himself and thrusts into Yashiro's palm.

"You are so fucking hot, Shindou," Yashiro breathes, and he must be leaning over Hikaru now, because the words ghost over his chest before one nipple is sucked into Yashiro's mouth. All it takes is the flick of his tongue over the nub and Hikaru is coming in Yashiro's hand, thighs straining to keep him aloft, lips parted as he shouts his release. Yashiro keeps stroking him until Hikaru collapse into a pile on the floor before Yashiro.

The first thing he notices post-orgasm is that Yashiro is still kneeling in front of him and hard. As tempting as it is to just fall asleep on the floor, the prospect of watching Yashiro lose control is far more enticing. He lifts his hand and beckons Yashiro to him; Yashiro crawls over him, and Hikaru can feel Yashiro's dick drag across his thigh and his hip before Yashiro straddles him again.

Hikaru dances his fingers up Yashiro's thigh, taking a moment here or there to press his nail into the soft skin. Yashiro's eyes are half closed and he looks relaxed, but Hikaru can feel the tension thrumming through Yashiro's body. 

It's not long after Hikaru wraps his fingers around Yashiro's cock before he's coming all over Hikaru's hand and digging his nails into Hikaru's hips. _That's going to leave a mark,_ Hikaru thinks dimly as he watches Yashiro come undone at his hand.

It's intoxicating, knowing that he has this sort of power over someone, and it's easier than he cares to admit to ignore the little voice in the back of his head whispering "What happens next?" Instead, he focuses on watching the tension drain from Yashiro's frame and the way Yashiro's face relaxes into a little smile that coaxes a matching one from Hikaru. 

Yashiro sort of half lifts, half rolls off of Hikaru and collapses beside him. Neither of them say anything, and all Hikaru can hear is the sound of Yashiro's breathing as he calms down, the rapid beating of his own heart, and the battle music from the abandoned game. 

"Hey Shindou," Yashiro murmurs a little while later.

"Yeah?"

"'M gonna borrow your shower," comes the mumbled reply. "And then I'm taking over your couch for the night."

"Not naked you aren't," he says, lazily lifting his arm to whap Yashiro's bicep. "I'll get you a pair of boxers."

"Fine, whatever," Yashiro agrees around a yawn. "Just not those stupid yellow ones."

"Like you have room to talk," he scoffs, sitting up. They had left the main light on and Hikaru thinks he can see something that might be his jeans. As predicted, he can't see a hint of Yashiro's shirt. "You have skulls and crossbones on your boxers."

"Fuck off."

He sends Yashiro his best shit-eating grin. "I think we just did."

For one fleeting moment, Hikaru thinks he's said the wrong thing, that he has inadvertently ruined the status quo, but then Yashiro rolls his eyes and flips Hikaru the bird. "You've lived a very sad life if you think that was fucking, Shindou."

"I didn't hear you complaining," Hikaru grins, relieved. 

Yashiro averts his eyes for a moment, cheeks a little pink. "Whatever."

He watches as Yashiro stands up and heads towards the bathroom. "Hey, Yashiro," he calls. Yashiro pauses and looks back. "We still have to finish the game. I'll kick your ass."

Yashiro chuckles. "Yeah right. I was so kicking your ass, Shindou. Just give it up."

"Bullshit. I was just going easy on you."

"Oh yeah?" Yashiro smirks and motions towards the TV, where their characters are bouncing from toe to toe, awaiting instruction. "Prove it."

Hikaru stands up and grabs his controller, tossing the other one to Yashiro. "You're on."


End file.
